


A Show for the Public

by merryghoul



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-24
Updated: 2014-10-24
Packaged: 2018-02-20 07:35:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2420420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merryghoul/pseuds/merryghoul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Olivia's hired to straighten up the First Lady's image.  AU after "Randy, Red, Superfreak and Julia."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Show for the Public

**Author's Note:**

  * For [breathedout](https://archiveofourown.org/users/breathedout/gifts).



> I've decided to ignore Jake/Olivia for the sake of this story's plot.

A beige robe with a yellow floral pattern, pajamas, and Uggs.  The White House's bowling alley covered in Fruit Colored-Os and sweet potato chips.  Mellie splayed out in the middle of the bowling alley's only lane.  Olivia wasn't used to seeing Mellie like this.

Mellie noticed Olivia standing in front of her.  Mellie moved her head off the floor.  Her eyes were wide.  "Do you wear anything else but black, white and gray?"

"Why is that important?"

"And you always wear those damn cardigans."

"We're not here to talk about what I'm wearing."

"I told Fitz to tell me whenever he was seeing his whore again.  Did you blow him to find out where I was?"

"Fitz didn't call me here.  Cyrus did.  He paid me for this job before I could ask for it.  I have to do it or he'll blackmail me."

"You're lying."

"I'm not lying.  I'm here to fix this."  Olivia pulled out a copy of the _Capital Lowdown,_ a Washington political tabloid, from her purse.  The cover featured Mellie sitting near her son's grave. In the picture, Mellie wore a gray bathrobe and Uggs. She ate the same sweet potato chips that were strewn around the floor of the White House bowling alley. "Look at this, Mellie. This photo is on the front of every paper in Washington."

"Whee, I made the _Capital Lowdown!_ "

"You've forgotten you have a job."

"What job do I have?  All I'm expected to do is stand behind the President and shut up."

"You are the First Lady of the United States.  First Ladies don't go out in public in pajamas and Uggs."

"I'm the first First Lady to step out in Uggs.  I should be celebrated."

"I'm not leaving until I get you out of those pajamas and Uggs."

Mellie laughed.  "Come on and try."

 

Mellie watched from a chair as Olivia came onto the balcony outside her bedroom.  "Oh, no, here comes Olivia Pope, trying to fix what's wrong with me."

"The public needs to see you as yourself again."

Mellie laughed.  "I am myself."

"I've set up a few dates for you to rehabilitate your image.  Tomorrow I've scheduled a speech for you at Millard Fillmore High School at 11 AM.  Friday I've set up an interview with Carla Steele.  Next week, you're doing an interview with _People_ Magazine."

Mellie gave Olivia a half-smile.  "Can't you see how happy I am, Liv?   I don't want to change."

"You look miserable, Mellie, and you know it."

"I don't care.  I honestly don't care.  Maybe you should let me go insane so they take me to St. Elizabeth's."

"You are going to Millard Fillmore High School tomorrow, even if I have to drag you out of that chair to get you to that school."

 

Olivia walked onto Mellie's bedroom balcony the day of the speech.

Mellie laughed.  "You're not strong enough to drag me off this balcony."

"I know.  But _they're_ strong enough."

"They" were a couple of Secret Service agents. The Secret Service agents appeared on the balcony as soon as Olivia stopped talking.  They picked up Mellie from her chair. 

"I can have you arrested for kidnapping me, Olivia." 

"Cyrus said I had the authority to do this."

The Secret Service agents took Mellie from her bedroom to a waiting limousine.  Olivia joined her in the back seat.  Along with the Secret Service agents—the two that dragged Mellie into the limousine and the one driving the limousine—a Thakoon dress and Givenchy pumps were waiting for Mellie.

Mellie thrashed against the limousine's seats.  The Secret Service guards beside her grabbed her arms. 

"Calm down. You're not getting out of this speech," Olivia said.

Mellie stopped thrashing. She sighed, then grunted. "Who wrote the speech?"

"The president's speechwriter."

"I can't ever get away from that bastard.  Even with a speech."

"You are not wrecking your reputation."

Mellie shook her head.  "What are you talking about? I don't _have_ a reputation.  I was once an unfaithful wife because I wanted to get away from Fitz.  I'm a liar.  I'm a whore.  Now I'm crazy because I can't even grieve my son the way I want to."

"You're the First—"

"I know what I'm supposed to be!"  Mellie's eyes welled up with tears.  

"Then act like it."

Mellie, Olivia, and the Secret Service agents arrived at Millard Filmore High School a few minutes later.  Mellie cooperated with Olivia and the Secret Service agents.  She put on the Thakoon dress, the Givenchy pumps, and her own makeup.  When Mellie was ready, she walked in the school with Olivia and the Secret Security agents. 

On their way to the high school's theater, Mellie held her head.  She slowed her walking.  "Liv, I think I need a glass of water." 

"There should be some—"

Before Olivia could finish her sentence, Mellie collapsed on the floor. 

 

Instead of delivering the speech, Mellie was back on her bedroom's balcony, this time in a white robe decorated in a red and blue floral motif. She still wore her pajamas and Uggs.  A mug, filled with scotch, and a bag of sweet potato chips were beside her on a table.

Olivia walked onto Mellie's balcony once more. She slammed the door behind her.  "I should've known you would fake a fainting spell to get out of that speech." 

Mellie laughed at Olivia.

"You think everything I'm doing for you is funny, don't you."

"No.  I'm laughing because you have no idea how much shit I've been through."

"I know some of the shit you've been through.  Big Jerry assaulting you, not knowing who fathered your son—"

Mellie shook her head.  "You've never lost someone you've cared about."

"Guess what, Mellie?  You don't know anything about me.  I've lost someone I care about."

"Your mother?  I never knew you cared so much for a terrorist."

"No.  One of my employees.  His name was Harrison Wright.  You know where I found him?  Prison.  He was arrested for insider trading.  But I saw something in him.    I didn't think he deserved to be in prison for six years.  I got him out of prison so he could work for me.  I'm guessing you haven't read the paper recently."

"You don't know what I've been reading."

"He was murdered.  I don't know who murdered him.  You know what I did while someone was killing him?  I abandoned him.  I ran off for a tropical island because I thought I was a problem to everyone I ever knew.  I left him in his time of need, and I feel guilty for that.  I felt awful when I finally put him to rest.  He was in group homes as a child.  I don't think he ever knew his parents.  I was a part of the only family he ever knew.  I left him because I was selfish.  I left a lot of people that depended on me because I was selfish.  And that's how you're acting right now—selfish."

Mellie froze.  "How dare you say losing a son is selfish?"

"People lose other people in their lives, Mellie.  That's not selfish.  You wearing pajamas and Uggs and eating cereal and potato chips all the time is selfish."

"I have given my all on the behalf of so many people.  Not just Fitz, not just for this country, not just for you.  So many people."

"You can have some time for yourself, Mellie.  You can still have cereal out of the box.  You can have potato chips.  But you can't have it all the time."

"Like I can't have a relationship with someone I love.  You can have it all the time.  You can have it whenever he calls you up and asks you to fuck him.  But I can't have a relationship with a paramour.  Presidents can have mistresses whenever they want.  Never the First Ladies."

"Ever since I've gotten back, he hasn't called me up to have sex with him."

Mellie shook her head.  "It's only a matter of time.  You and I know that." 

"I don't want him."

"That's a lie and you know it.  Any minute now, you're going to find him in the Oval Office or the bathroom or somewhere…"

"Do you want me to prove it?"

"What?"

"Do you want me to prove I don't want Fitz anymore?"

"How are you—"

Olivia leaned into Mellie and kissed her, putting her hands on her face.  She leaned into Mellie and the chair.  Mellie's fingers flailed at first.  After a pause, she responded to Olivia.  Mellie closed her eyes and enjoyed Olivia's lipstick touching her lips.  There was something taboo about it.  She grabbed Olivia's sides, steadying her.  A smile crept on Mellie's face when the kiss was over.  She was disappointed when she felt her face and noticed she didn't have traces of Olivia's lipstick on her face.

Olivia cleared her throat.  "Let me get to the point.  It's time for you to go back to work.  The White House, the American public, and I do not have any more time for you to make an ass out of yourself at your son's grave.  You are going to do that interview with Carla and the interview with _People_ or I will make the flames of hell dance upon your head _._ "

Mellie stared at Olivia.  She was still stunned by the kiss.

 

The interview was shot in Mellie's office.  Carla showed Mellie the same picture of Mellie by her son's grave Olivia showed her earlier.  "Let's talk about this photo.  It's created a bit of controversy."

Mellie nodded.

"We're all familiar with Jacqueline Kennedy after John F. Kennedy's assassination.  Black dress, black shoes, black shawl over her head, paying her last respects to her husband.  Then the American public sees you sitting by your son's grave in a bathrobe, eating sweet potato chips.  What do you have to say for yourself?"

"We all have different ways of grieving.  My way of grieving my son, I'll admit, was very eccentric.  In retrospect, I could've done my grieving in a more respectful way.  I could've put on a nicer dress, not eat chips by the graveside.  I certainly won't be eating chips at my mother's graveside."  She laughed.  "But I've paid my final respects to my son.  I'm ready to get back to work.  I'm at the mercy of the American people.  I'll do what they want me to do." 

The interview continued without any problems.  Carla moved on from Mellie's grieving and focused on other things in Mellie's life: her other children, her relationship with Fitz (that she lied about to Carla's face), her support of Fitz's recent stance on gun control.  To Carla and her staff, Mellie wasn't crazy at all.  She was normal. 

Olivia watched Mellie give her interview through a doorway that wasn't being filmed for the camera.  She sensed something wrong with Mellie as she talked to Carla.

After the interview was over, Mellie left her office and walked through the doorway.  When she was far away from Carla and her crew, Mellie cried.  Olivia hugged Mellie.  She let Mellie cry on her shoulder.

"You did great, Mellie."  Olivia rocked Mellie.

"I lied."  She sobbed.  "I'm not ready to go back to work."

"You know what?  You don't have to go back to work yet.  You're going to get back in one of your ratty robes and your Uggs and take the weekend off.  The _People_ interview isn't until Monday."

"Thanks, Liv."

 

The next day, Mellie, this time in a purple velveteen robe and her usual pajamas and Uggs, was back on the balcony.  When Olivia went to visit her, there was a tray of fried chicken beside her, decorated with purple and green lettuce and a couple of lemon wedges on the side. 

Olivia sat beside Mellie without Mellie greeting her.  Mellie handed the fried chicken tray to Olivia.  "Want a piece?" 

Olivia took a leg off of the tray. 

"People ask me what kind of Carolina barbecue I prefer.  Do I like the stuff made with tomato sauce, or do I like the stuff made with vinegar sauce?  I prefer fried chicken.  Tastes better than barbecue to me." 

Mellie got up and walked to the balcony's railing.  Olivia followed her. 

"That interview I did with Carla Steele?  That interview I'm about to do with _People?_   I'm not doing it for the nation.  I'm not doing it for the White House.  I don't give a shit about Fitz any more.  I'm doing it for you."

"Me?"

"It's easier to disappoint you than it is the White House or the nation."

"It's easier to disappoint you than it is the White House or the nation."

Olivia looked at Mellie.

"I don't ever think I’ll be myself again," Mellie said.

"I know the feeling," Olivia said.  "Maybe we'll be ourselves again.  These things take time.  Cyrus must be going through the same things we are."

There was silence on the balcony before Mellie broke it.  "I wish I met you before I met Fitz."

"I wish _I_ met you before I met Fitz."

"What should we do now?"

"I can convince Cyrus to let me check in on you once in a while and schedule more events."

Mellie nodded.  "I like that.  Do you want another piece of chicken before you go?"

"Why not?  You got scotch and another mug up here?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Mellie and Olivia ended their meeting standing on the balcony, eating fried chicken and drinking scotch, all without the prying eyes of the White House and the world.  For now, it was the only place they could be themselves without putting on a show for the public. 


End file.
